Fiction
by Default Jane
Summary: Leon might as well be a fictional character, that's how out of reach he is as far as Hunnigan is concerned. Or, at least, that's what she thought.


Hunnigan lay on her back on the floor of her office when Leon entered without knocking, as always, because he was just arrogant enough to keep forgetting that not even he had the right to just barge in. But, at least he wasn't a prick about it, which couldn't be said for a lot of other agents who had taken the same privilege of unapologetically just walking into her office and then proceeded to lean to her desk and ask her to make them coffee. Granted, he was the only one who hadn't stopped doing that even after she'd reminded him, in an icy tone, that she could get him fired.

"Are you flirting with me?" Leon grinned, pausing to lean his shoulder to the door frame, crossing his arms over his abdomen and his legs at the ankles as he decided to shamelessly take a moment to enjoy the view.

"I've decided to start meeting people lying down, makes me look thinner and pulls my face back so it's like a natural facelift," Hunnigan commented.

 _Downside is my tits slip under my arms, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make._

"Thinner? Are you on a diet again?" Leon quirked an eyebrow.  
"What do you mean _again_?" Hunnigan scoffed. Leon knew better than to respond, especially after the time he'd walked in on her losing her temper while trying to peel an orange which had ended in her throwing it into the wall, screaming at it that it can just fuck off.

"It's my back, it doesn't appreciate all this sitting I've been doing lately," Hunnigan explained, "And if you say one word to me about yoga, I will literally murder you… once I can get myself up from the floor," she then added, shaking her finger at him to pre-emptively silence him. It was bad enough her sister kept telling her what she thought Hunnigan should do, she didn't want to hear that lecture from Leon too.

"I can see your underwear."  
"Good, it cost me fifty bucks!" Hunnigan retorted and he chuckled.

"Did you need something?" Hunnigan then asked.  
"No, just wanted to check in on you and ask you if you felt like playing a game called 'We're just friends but I'd sleep with you if you asked'", Leon jested.

"The answer is still a solid no, as it has been for a decade."  
"Why you insist on depriving yourself my wonderful company is beyond me."

"Well... I like you how I like my coffee," Hunnigan began and sat up, grunting loudly through clenched teeth at the sharp pain in her lower back the movement brought out.  
"...you'd like me in a paper cup with sugar and milk?"

"I don't like coffee," Hunnigan smirked.  
"Oh, I should report to the burn unit," Leon scoffed amusedly and went to her, reaching his arm out and she gripped his forearm, allowing herself to be pulled up. She was lighter than what he'd expected after getting used to lifting women like Helena, who were solid muscle and therefore a lot heavier than they looked, and the force of his tug caused her to crash into his body.

"Sorry! You okay?" he chuckled, his arm reaching around her waist and his free hand making its way to cup her cheek softly to inspect her for any injuries she might have sustained while impacting into his chest.  
"I'm fine," Hunnigan assured, taking a step back somewhat awkwardly, unwillingly becoming too aware of the scent of his cologne -something earthy with an undertone of sweet, like honey bourbon with caramel spiced with the slightest hint of gunpowder still clinging to Leon's clothing from the time he'd spent practicing at the shooting range, mottled with the musk of... him. It was distracting, intoxicating, even for her.

Sure, he'd made a habit of flirting with Hunnigan, but he flirted with a lot of people... the difference was that Hunnigan had never taken him seriously. Brushing him off as a playboy had been easier... and not completely wrong either. That was what their relationship had been like since forever; he flirted with her, she made it clear she never took him seriously. How could she?

As far as she was concerned, he might as well have been a character from the comic books she'd read as a kid. _Sandman_ or the likes, fictional and out of reach, never going to happen... but it hadn't stopped her from developing strong feelings for them. Leon fell into the same category. She cared for him, loved him in a way even, but she knew that there was no universe in which she could realistically ever end up together with him. So, dismissing him (and the little twitches and aches she felt for him) had been easy. Except... when he was right there, invading her personal space with his muscular being and his handsome face, and his scent invading her senses. Those things weren't fictional. He wasn't fictional.

"You sure?" Leon asked, his voice low and so soft it made silk pale in comparison.  
"Yes, I'm fine," Hunnigan assured and he let her go, but she noticed he hesitated before doing so.

 _You're imagining things,_ Hunnigan told herself. Of course she was, how or why would someone like Leon ever want someone like her? Unless it was for the sake of him being able to later brag about bedding her, and she sure as hell wasn't about to give him the chance to do that. Not even if right now she wouldn't have minded the act at all.

"Listen, Hunnigan..."  
"It's just minor backpain. Hell, could even just be caused by Aunt Flo's upcoming visit," she interrupted him, hoping that even the veiled mention of periods would be enough to scare him away. It usually worked with almost anyone, especially the males.

"Good to know, I'll mark it on my calendar so I'll know when to throw chocolate at you," he smirked instead of awkwardly stammering and backing away slowly. Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow. He certainly wasn't easily intimidated.

"Great, then I can blame you the next time I find myself having to go on a diet," she smirked and he smiled, shaking his head a little, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He put his hands on his hips and shrugged a little.

"I did actually come by for a reason, but then I made the stupid comment about you flirting with me and figured you wouldn't pay me any heed even if I spoke seriously after that," he said.  
"Frankly, I've given up expecting you to be serious," Hunnigan admitted, pressed her palms against her lower back and pushed her pelvis forward, her mouth opening in a silent "Ow, fuck that hurts" as she moved and the feeling of what she imagined was the equivalent of having a knife twisted in her back must've felt like lanced through her.

"I know... and while I appreciate that and how much ridiculous crap I get away with because of it... I mean, any other agent behaving the way I do with you... they wouldn't have gotten away with it..."  
"Yeah, well, just continue being worth the trouble and you will continue to get away with it," Hunnigan dismissed, now leaning forward, gripping her ankles with her hands to help stretch her back the other way around; making sure she was facing toward Leon rather than away from him and offering him a generous view of her backside.

"...would you take me seriously now?" Leon asked. Hunnigan straightened up slowly, her back still hurting, but she ignored it. Who knew, maybe she'd need to give up and just try yoga. Or muscle relaxants. Preferably those. She was busy as she was, she didn't have the time to be constantly late for yoga too on top of everything else.

"Yes?"  
"Have dinner with me. No jokes, no stupid pick-up lines. Just... me seriously asking you out."

"To what end, Leon?" Hunnigan sighed. She wanted to say yes, God only knew how badly, but once again... thinking logically...

"I don't know. I was thinking... a big house with a white picket fence and a garden where we could grow our own vegetables... two kids, a boy and a girl, obviously... and a dog, a German shepherd maybe," Leon suggested and Hunnigan narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to believe him, she wanted the things he'd mentioned (except, maybe a cat or two instead of a dog, but she was willing to negotiate). But... on the other hand, he was still just a fictional character as far as she was concerned. It might have as well been Mickey Mouse who was offering her these things, the odds of it all happening in real life were just as non-existent.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she dismissed him with a joke.  
"Only to the ones who have told me they don't like coffee, so I'm forced to skip to the second step," Leon countered, grinning a little.

"And here I thought the common stereotype about moving super fast applied only to lesbians."  
"I don't know, you'd have to ask Helena about that," he winked and Hunnigan let out an amused scoff.

"Jokes aside..." Leon then said and stepped to her, reaching to grip her hands in his. His, that were elegant like a musician's but rough like a fighter's, the skin of his palms hardened by years of training at the gym and the shooting range. He had beautiful hands. Strong and masculine, the veins running across the backs of them, up and over his wrists, disappearing into his forearms and biceps. Leon Scott Kennedy and his God damn beautiful hands and the sexy joints of his fingers and especially the oddly intoxicating roughness of his skin against the feminine softness of her own.

"...have dinner with me. If that won't be enough to convince you to share that house and a garden and two kids and a dog with me, then I promise I'll leave you alone, but give me a chance."

"...all right. But, I want the subject of pets to be up for discussion. I might want cats instead of a dog."  
"You got it," he smiled sweetly and slowly leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him by softly pressing her index finger over his lips.

"A challenge, eh?" he quirked an eyebrow.  
"What's the matter? Too much of a woman for you?" she taunted and he inhaled and exhaled deeply, a sweet smile curving his mouth as he gently cupped her cheeks with his palms, pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead and pulled back then, regarding her with genuine affection.

"Not at all... but maybe just the right one."

 **End**


End file.
